


Fruit Salad and Revenge

by Felywn



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten-centric, Gen, Light Mention of Vomiting, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felywn/pseuds/Felywn
Summary: Ten hated fruit. Doyoung hated cucumbers. Both were highly respected senior agents of the secret intelligence agency NCTA.Naturally, they were also embroiled in a prank war.So when Ten, infamous in the criminal underworld, found fruit hidden in his chocolate cake, he sought revenge from Doyoung. Smart, right?
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung & Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	Fruit Salad and Revenge

“Please don’t tell me what happened this time” Kun said as he stared Mark and Donghyuck down. A wincing Mark with a swollen leg had shuffled into the NCTAgency medical bay helped up by Donghyuck. Both were splattered with what looked like more bodily fluids than even Yuta could spill in a week.

“It’s not as bad as it looks! Some of this is watermelon juice. And, in fairness, how was I meant to know that one of the most proficient agents at our agency wouldn’t be able to defeat a snake?” Donghyuck said, eyes wide in earnest while he helped Kun lift Mark into a hospital bed.

“He didn’t even check the package when it arrived! And then later he kinda accidentally knocked everything to the floor, so then it lunged up at him, but he’d just come back from a job, was tired, trying to cook and all, so, uh, he didn’t notice it and… it might’ve kind of bit him. Twice.”

Kun froze in the middle of inspecting Mark’s leg. He turned to face Donghyuck.

“What type of snake?”

“Saw-scaled viper. From Maharashtra. 20 minutes ago,” Donghyuck whispered.

Kun turned slowly. “Give me a while. Then come back later so I can kill you properly.”

* * *

A few hours later, a still-sore Mark and Donghyuck were sat before Kun, feeling considerably more chastised than they had hoped to be.

“You must be kidding me. Buying one of the most deadly snakes in the world and sending it to your best friend as a prank? Even Chenle hasn’t done something like that before.”

“It’s only a matter of time. If it helps, I was going to get a black mamba, but thought it was best to stay on the safe side?”

Mark paled, and a few more strands of Kun’s hair whitened, then fell out.

“‘Safe side?!’ So maybe the guy that laced your phone with explosives last week was me, but man, that doesn’t mean I wanted you to kill me. And besides, you noticed that!”

Kun leaned in and lowered his voice. “As illuminating as this discussion has been, you two do realize pranks are taboo here, right? Mention them to Ten and you’ll be mysteriously relegated to desk work for the rest of the month.”

“Ten? But he’s the biggest anarchist of you all.” Donghyuck frowned.

“Sure, but don’t you remember the cake incident? Everyone new knows by the end of induction.”

Mark threw a questioning glance at Donghyuck and asked “What story? We were mentored by Ten that year, no-one told us anything.”

“Ah, that makes sense now,” Kun sighed. “No wonder he was so eager to mentor.”

Donghyuck scooted forwards, coincidentally blocking his path to the door and widening his eyes until they watered in a beseeching pout. “Come on hyung, you’ve been so cruel the past hour, shouting at us."

“Yeah and we’ve listened so well!” Mark smiled with big glassy eyes from his other side. “Besides, my leg still hurts. You wouldn’t leave a poor invalid like me on a cliff-hanger like this, right?”

Attacked from both ends, Kun crumbled. He closed his eyes, hurried Donghyuck back and shut the door.

“Can you check where Ten is now?”

“Think he’s getting some new equipment training with Doyoung.”

“Promise me you won’t tell them.”

* * *

Hidden among the heavenly textures of chocolate cake and ice cream, Ten felt something deeply unsettling. It was cold, wet, fibrous, almost slimy, and as he chewed, he couldn’t help but be reminded of those sickening vermin. Those sickening vermin that shriveled up every inch of his mouth, those repugnant fibers that sucked the living soul out of taste. That vile mush he could now feel slivering over his tongue. He spat the sludge out and screamed.

“Nice try, but that’s not going to get you out of your report.” Sitting down at the lunch table, Kun patted his head and handed him some documents. “Taeyong sent these to everyone, something about some sort of delayed-onset poisons, but you probably ignored them. Can you have a look later and come tell me what you think? He asked me to make antidotes but I’m having some trouble.”

“Kuuunnn, don’t do this to me. I’ve been scarred for life!”

“Ah, so that was Doyoung’s newest retaliation? What did he do?”

“He crossed the line with the ultimate betrayal. Fruit, Kun, fruit! Oh my poor tongue, it’ll take years for my sense of taste to come back.”

Kun nodded along. “That sounds great, remind me to thank him. Don’t forget to look over those papers then.” He stood to leave, but Ten swivelled around and blocked him off.

“What do you think I should do next?”

“How about nothing? It’s a tragedy two of the agency’s most senior agents have an ongoing prank war with each other. Feel sorry for our PR managers.”

About as aghast as one can be gagging, Ten recoiled. “Have you no sympathy for my poor tastebuds?! He snuck fruit into my lunch. Fruit!”

“And you put cucumber into his breakfast last time, so it’s even.”

“Nah, that was ricin.”

“Wait, wha—”

“And he noticed it anyway. But what did you say again?”

“Cucumber? In—“

“Thanks, that’s perfect! Might break into his apartment a bit to spice it up instead but thanks so so much!”

“But when—”

Ten hugged him, almost knocking him to the ground, and rushed to his desk with thoughts of a masterpiece bubbling away. This night would be the ideal time to infiltrate Doyoung’s apartment. He would be tired from his recent mission, fixing others’ unpredictable mess-ups in the field and assessing applicants – God knows how frustrating managing those demons were – so if there was any time he’d let his guard down, it would be this night. This very night, he would embark on a life-or-death mission to force-feed Doyoung cucumber.

* * *

Ten tapped out a quick message rescheduling his discussion with Kun as he got out of work. Laughing to himself at Kun’s indignation, he didn’t notice Johnny jogging up beside him.

“Ten, I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!”

“Oh! Hey Johnny, what’s wrong?”

“Did you see that thing Taeyong sent? Lucas was looking for you.”

“Oh yeah, Kun gave it to me. How did the new applicants do?”

Johnny snorted and looped his arm around Ten’s shoulders. “Pretty well, actually. One looks like a nightmare waiting to happen – Doyoung probably already regrets passing him. Actually, he invited us all out to relax, wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m kinda busy tonight. You can go on ahead.” He smiled, “Expect some news tomorrow.”

His pace was steady and brisk as he walked home in the shadow of the rising nightlife, but it betrayed an anticipation smothering a growing headache. His palms felt strangely clammy for what should feel like a routine operation. Doyoung would be such an exciting person to go up against, he thought. As active agents working abroad for much of their time, they didn’t have much time to spar against each other. Today was a lucky coincidence.

After an evening of cutting cucumber cubes and restless Netflix, Ten decided Doyoung should definitely be asleep. He changed into some darker clothes, picked up a few pieces of kit and slipped out. By now, night was well underway, and the thrill of a night job nipped through his jacket. Thinking about it now, it would be so satisfying to wake him up with a knife to his throat, but if he were going to secretly force-feed Doyoung cucumber, he should probably make sure not to leave any traces.

Now at Doyoung’s apartment building, Ten pushed his morbid daydreams to the back of his mind. He scaled the wall and picked the lock on his window. Taking a bag of magnets out, he disabled the alarm on the window frame and slipped in.

It was quiet. Faint streetlights dusted the rooms with a champagne-yellow, spotting the otherwise cold, flat furniture. The ticks and tocks of the clock in the living room fell behind as he paused in the spare room. Doyoung would be sleeping light with a knife under his pillow, and if he made any sound, his grand plans for a cucumber-infested day would be shattered. As light as the trickle of a stream, Ten picked his way through to the kitchen. His breaths sounded unnaturally harsh in the stagnant air, but even as he evened it on reflex, creaks and groans of his joints seemed to cry out instead. The cold of the tile flooring numbed his feet through his shoes and his forehead was now burning. Still, in every turn and place of each foot was fluidity and grace. Just a few minutes to check Doyoung was asleep, ten minutes to slip cucumber into as many food items as possible, then he would be out.

But no, he thought while injecting hot pot sauce packets with cucumber juice. I put so much effort on this traitor, but I won’t even wring out an apology? I should at least do something to pay myself back for this time I’m wasting.

Some cucumber juice missed the packet and smeared on his hand. Ten wiped the prickles of perspiration from his forehead, steadied himself on the kitchen counter, then continued to hide cucumber cubes in sticks of cheese bread. Head muffled, he went through the food like flicking pages of a book, but instead of leaving, his feet led him to the door of the main bedroom. From there, the snuffles of Doyoung’s sleep seemed to rise up in tandem with his heart, pounding and pounding faster. He could see the offending figure buried next to a penguin plushie and a metal lamp. His throat felt parched. The carpet yanked further away from him as he approached, feet sliding on the rolling floor. Inching closer and closer, Doyoung’s features wobbled in and out of focus and he could now almost feel the warmth of his breath if he stretched his arm out. This, was the time, to demand retribution.

Ten stumbled.

An alarm whistled past.

And Doyoung swept his right leg out and flipped from his bed as he slammed Ten to the ground, pinning him with a knife to his neck, a naked hair away from drawing blood. The sudden impact drove bursts of light and through the pounding, he could dimly make out Doyoung’s confusion.

“Ten?” His grip loosened. “What? What are you doing?”

Adrenaline flooded the disorientation away. He spun out, digging Doyoung to the floor with a jab of his elbow but he jolted back too fast and tackled Ten again, grappling for control on the floor in jerks of angry silence as the carpet raked through their skin and dug into their bruises.

“What do you think?” Ten hissed. “How could you possibly do this to me?” and he yanked back hard on Doyoung shoulder, taking the opportunity to whip his hand around and grasp something. “The fruit you put in my cake, idiot.”

Doyoung paused. “What fruit?”

The lamp came hurtling with deadly velocity at Doyoung’s head, spinning as the metal glinted a vivid gold, streaking through like a snake strike, slamming through the rock-solid air. Ten saw dread drain his face blood-white. Then, the exploding impact of Doyoung’s heel tore his shoulder open. One moment later, and he was thrashing on the bed with a hand squeezing his throat down, lamp crumpled to the side by Doyoung’s block.

“Hang on a minute. Fruit?”

Eyes stinging with sweat, Ten scrabbled against the soft, soft bedcovers.

“Oh! Oh my God, how did you, no, are you ok? I can’t believe—" But by now, the pounding in his ears was overflowing, dragging along nausea and a dizzying pressure in his head closing on the edges of his vision. A burning, crushing pain ripped through his stomach like vultures feeding on the ravaged. His breathing shallowed; spit and foam mixed with the salty perspiration. His vision folded in on itself, leaving only the red-hot pain, and then black.

A single thought pierced his mind.

“Ah, fuck. Poison.”

* * *

Ten’s head seemed insistent on wringing and pounding itself flat. So did the sun seem hellbent on blinding the Earth into an early apocalypse. Even the bed seemed starchier and more rough than usual. In fact, he must have drank more than normal last night seeing as some sort of alien, earthquake-like rumbling seemed to be present in his left ear.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry, please don’t kill me.”

Hmm. This rumbling was starting to sound increasingly human.

“I don’t even know how it got into your lunch! Promise it wasn’t on purpose.”

When did earthquakes start to sound like Chenle?

“And besides, if I really wanted to poison you, I’d have chosen something more entertaining. Thanks for testing it though.”

What?

Ten sat up quickly, then immediately regretted it as he retched to the side to a chorus of cheers. Squinting, he could just about make out around half of the agency’s members, including Chenle, crowded around a bed in medical bay. His bed in medical bay. He groaned, then pulled the covers over his head. Maybe if he ignored them for long enough, they would go away.

“Please leave, you’ll have enough time to tease me later when I don’t feel like a used baseball bat.”

Johnny pushed through the crowd with a relieved smile. “You know, when you told me to ‘expect some news’, I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

Ten heard Chenle whisper to Kun. “Hey, hey, Kun, can I run some tests now?”

“No”

“But he’s woken up and he’s obviously fine, and it’s such a good opportunity to get results from a live human!”

“Wait for him to explain himself at least. Or are you going to waste such good blackmail material?”

Yuta sat on his bed, laughing. “You got absolutely crushed by Doyoung as well.” He poked the Ten-sized lump. “Oh, imagine the shame.”

A muffled moan wavered out, “Nooo, I was poisoned okay. Imagine trying to fight him delirious, like, I don’t even know where the poison came from, I was sweating buckets and my balance was completely off.”

After a few moments steeling himself for more torrents of teasing, he sat up against the bedrest and buried himself in duvet up to his eyes. None came. Instead, Taeyong stood in front of him, arms crossed with a hard, reproachful stare.

“Ten. I have been with you for 8 long years, and this must be a new low. Can you picture what would happen to the productivity of NCTA if our agents actually bothered to follow instructions? Especially the ones that explicitly warn of contaminated food that someone in particular likes to eat. Neither. Because for some reason, we employ people who find it necessary to climb into fellow agent’s rooms at night and attack them. Why were you there anyway? Chenle could hardly have made poisons capable of…”

Ten zoned out from the impassioned speech Taeyong was giving. Could it be possible… Kun didn’t tell anyone his plans? Kun?! Was he turning a new leaf that would see the long-awaited rise of workplace rights? This was almost worth the embarrassment. He glanced at Kun. He was very seriously frowning at a spot on the wall behind him. Hope grew.

A few minutes passed, and still no one had answered his main question. He interrupted, “So where did the fruit come from then? And how did Chenle’s poison make it into my cake?”

Everyone blinked, confused, until Chenle piped up. “It really wasn’t my fault! I was experimenting with the best ways to conceal that cool new poison I made, until someone swept by, loudly proclaimed they needed something to bribe someone with, turned, then left. I only realised it was taken at the end when there was an empty section left on my notepad.”

“Hey,” Lucas complained, “It was just, like, chocolate cake lying around, anyone would’ve taken it.”

Taeyong grimaced. “Lucas, it was in the toxicology branch.”

Chenle piped up again. “Surprise! It wasn’t. I mean, who can really be bothered to move there every time they do something with lethal poisons, right?”

Turned out, even the director of NCTA had breaking points. Taeyong stared blankly at the congregation, plugged his fingers in his ears then speed-walked away, muttering under his breath.

A few hours later, the group had dispersed. Ten was waiting. He had a dozen more poison-detection classes to attend and an unofficial rule to curse the walls of NCTA with, but for now, if he listened closely enough, the anguished cries of Doyoung screaming his name could be heard from afar.

* * *

Mark and Donghyuck stared at Kun in shock. Their eyes had widened to comical circles and Mark’s bandaged leg was hanging off the bed.

“Yo, hyung! That was so cool!”

“You actually didn’t tell Taeyong? Why’re you so stuffy now then?”

Kun flushed. “I’m not more stuffy, I just. Thought Ten would have been through enough without having his handiwork destroyed as well.” He chuckled and leaned forward in his chair. “You don’t think it was hilarious though? I feel embarrassed just thinking about it and I’m not even a combat specialist.”

Remembering Mark’s injury, he fussed over his leg and directed Donghyuck to let in some air. Instead of a blissfully empty corridor, Donghyuck opened the door and was met with Ten.

The air chilled.

“Hey guys, how are you? I heard Mark was injured and thought to make a quick visit.” In his right hand, he clutched a crumpled metal lamp. Its broken edges sliced through the sunlight, light lining the weapon. Part of the base had been torn off; now, it was the perfect size to throw.

“That story you were talking about earlier sounded very exciting. Please do tell me more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you to the mods of A Little Wonder for hosting this fic fest.


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